


Sleep With The Fishes

by lakemonsters



Category: Free!
Genre: Gen, Isolation, Opening up to a friend, Secrets, Speaking out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 19:55:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakemonsters/pseuds/lakemonsters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I’d been noticing it. When you run and you see me, you stop but you don’t come over for a chat. But I feel like maybe it happens all the time because you want to talk to me. I don't want to drive you away by trying to talk to you, but then the thunder and rain gave me a reason today."</p>
<hr/><p>Rin's pride is as huge as an Oarfish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep With The Fishes

This is the story of a would-be-king, believed to be the next big thing. The ideal specimen for the breed of swimmers that Iwatobi is expected to produce. A would-be-king that has the genes, the talent and tenacity required to make the water his kingdom to rule. And because of this he believes himself to be responsible in keeping up appearances, live up to what people expect him to be. He has no qualms burying anything that could be mistaken for as weakness. 

All that matters is a throne made of water to sit in once he’s won the right to his self-imagined crown.

 

He is half-way there, this would-be-king. Half-way between the gutter and the stars, between sleep and his dreams. The only thing that really gets in the way is reality. It’s that sore little corner in his head.

See, what’s hidden from the world, covered by his proud demeanor, stylish clothes and learned language is a story that wants to be set free. It is his personal history, that period he’s lived through that needs to be told, passed on to someone because the weight is too much for one person. There are nights when he is sleeping in his room and he is jerked awake by memories: All claws and teeth and merciless attacks directed at him only what takes the scratches and bites isn’t him but his ability to swim. And in his dream he suddenly stops swimming. No longer worthy of his self-imagined crown.

On such nights, the only thing he can do is try to catch his breath and focus on something that will more or less make him feel better. Nitori will peer from the top bunk and ask if he is alright, Nitori will fuss and ask if the would-be-king needs anything and will only go back to sleep when he's sure that all is right. It blows up _his_ ego for a few seconds before he deflates back into a mess, sinking back into his bed and clutching his pillow tight and willing himself to go back to sleep. 

He is facing his desk, his mobile phone is flashing because of the service indicator. Times like these he talks himself out of making _that_ call. Knowing that _someone_ is actually waiting for him to dial that number and just _make_ it. No one is asking for a miracle, just a conversation. But a big part of the would-be-king is not ready to speak. Not yet.

This _someone_ he is thinking of, is not an option. Not a name from a list. 

This someone’s always been at the back of his mind from day one after he got back from abroad, this someone is like a safety net. Because _he_ knows he can talk to him. Without worrying about shit hitting the fan. It’s just not clear to him why he’s drawing this out, why he is intentionally taking this long.

 

When Nitori is out doing a project or busy with a group study and the would-be-king finds himself alone, he speaks out loud. Speaking to no one in particular. Just wanting to hear his voice, his real voice that is void of anger and of hurt for a change. 

He lets his defenses rest and he spies his reflection on the screen of his mobile phone before he smiles. Just a little bit, enough to show a bit of fang and move his face muscles. He tells _that_ reflection about the good and bad experiences, the bad outweighing the good and why he stayed in Australia despite the fact. Too bad his audience is limited only to the growing rubber robot toys and grass-haired trolls that Nitori takes care of to give their room “a pop of color”. He does not find them cute nor beautiful but they do their job.

The sad part about all this is that he is getting used to this kind of life. The solitude, the pride that dances around the details, because the details never talk back. And he can crumple them all up in a ball and make them into secrets. 

His secrets.

 

 

The would-be-king runs in the morning and at night.

He does this to build up strength or blow off steam, depending on his mood. He does this because running requires minimum amount of brooding and maximum amount of freedom. When he’s running, no one bothers him, no one asks him where he’s going. He’s running because he’s got goals to achieve and a dream to fulfill. He schools himself into concentration and follows a definite route everyday.

Only, _everyday_ he deviates from that same route, makes a sharp turn from the Samezuka field, outside the Samezuka grounds and ends up seaside which only betrays his Freudian desires for open skies and an unadulterated view of the water. There are times when running also allows him a chance encounter with that _someone_. Though it’s not really an encounter and more like a sighting.

Sometimes the would-be-king sees him playing with the stray cats that live near the docks; little insolent creatures that share in the spoils of the fishermen at the end of each working day. 

Sometimes he’d see him walking with Haruka. Sometimes they would see him too, wave at him, call out his name but he pretends not to hear through the music he’s playing. 

But then, there are times rare as it may be and probably the reason why the would-be-king takes a chance each day - that this someone is alone, sitting quietly by the shoals, far from the bustling docks of this small town. As if he is deep in thought or is engaged in mental flight, off to some great adventure. 

Those moments don’t last long. 

Makoto is busy with life after all - his parents, his siblings, the stray cats, the swimming club. 

The would-be-king makes sure that he is able to watch him and wonder what he sees and where he goes: If in his head he’s trying to conquer his fear of the open water or if he’s just had it with life and wants a fifteen-minute reprieve.

It does not concern him but he watches nonetheless, maybe it’s because it is a window of opportunity to speak to him without having to worry about other people. Maybe it’s because every time he sees him - he wants to share _his_ secrets so they do not weigh him down anymore. 

It’s just that he finds more reason not to, that he talks himself out of it and before he knows it the fifteen-minute reprieve is over and Makoto is going to have to go back to his life.

The would be king always wills Makoto to stay. But willing something and speaking out are two very different things. Without him realizing it, this becomes a cycle.

Unless Makoto unwittingly breaks it from time to time.

Makoto sees him and waves at him and runs to him and talks to him. The would-be-king always makes it a point to be rude because kindness can be hypnotic and he has secrets to keep and he is not ready to speak of them. And before he realizes it, he’s become like the strays that Makoto loves caring for. Always coming back - for more of what, he is not quite sure.

That’s when he forgets about his dreams, his self-imagined crown. The the would-be-king becomes someone else: Transforming back to this little boy named Rin. 

 

 

The devil is in the details, the little instances, the signs. 

Only he’s too busy running and singing to a Red Hot Chili Peppers song to notice. He’s fast approaching the spot Makoto likes so much, feeling lucky this time because he is alone but walking back in a bit of a hurry. Towards Rin.

"Rin! Rin!" He sees Makoto gesture, starts to run towards him. And his instincts tell him to turn around, go back, but Makoto’s strides are longer and he’s beside Rin in a heartbeat.

"What?!" he says and plucks out the earphones, music filtering softly.

"Rin. It’s dangerous to be out running. It’s going to rain. Did you not hear the thunder, see the lightning?"

Obviously he did but thought nothing of it. Rin did not want to seem careless and incompetent in front of Makoto to he says --

"That’s why I was running."

Makoto gives him a disbelieving smile and as if on cue - thunder rolls in and rain begins to fall.

 

 

This town has several strategically placed waiting sheds lining the main roads and along property facing the shoreline. 

Makoto and Rin find themselves sheltered in one. The shed is old, a bit rickety but it will withstand this downpour. Rin sits with his legs stretched out and Makoto is more proper. They both conserve heat by folding their arms over their chests.

The first to break the silence is Makoto -

"I suppose you don’t have my number, Rin. I mean Kou-san said she gave it to you but I suppose you lost it or maybe you don’t have time to call but I could give you my number now if you want." He might look worried but Makoto always sounds sure of what he says as if everything that falls from his mouth has a purpose.

"I don’t have my phone one me now. I’ll lose it again."

"So you did get it." Makoto smiles "I’m glad. I’ll be sure to text you with a message that it’s me so you can save it."

"Why would I want to save it? What makes you think I’d call you for anything?" Those words were meant to stay in his head but the Freudian slips keep coming these days and the secrets are beginning to stir. His words don't come out with venom. They just come out sad and doubtful.

Rin makes sure he is all calm up above though infuriated down below. 

He keeps his eyes on the falling rain and closes in on himself tighter. The mask slamming down harder. He cannot look at Makoto because he knows that he is being rude and he doesn’t want to be rude only he can’t be anything else right now. It will all have a point someday, he tells himself. 

"I’d been noticing it. When you run and you see me, you stop but you don’t come over for a chat. But I feel like, maybe, it happens all the time because you want to talk to me. I don't want to drive you away by making the first move, but then the thunder and rain gave me a reason today."

"Your imagination, Makoto, is very fertile. No such thing. Pure coincidence." The point doesn’t have to be moot - it just has to be correct and educated. All this renders him quite exhausted and at that moment all he wanted to do was close his eyes and sleep with the heavy rain as his background.

"Ah, it seems so. Though, if you _do_ want to talk just say so, Rin. We used to always have conversations about things you did not want other people knowing about." Makoto refers to old times, those short but somehow meaningful conversations at the shrine. Things Rin wanted to talk about but didn’t want the world to know about.

_"Secrets. You’re good at that."_ Rin says quietly. Torn between wanting to speak and keeping mum. His mind is beginning to go overdrive. _Does no one want to listen!?_ And of course no one answers because he hasn’t said anything. He is alone in his imperfection. And in the middle of this freak summer storm it is really hard for him to rebuild the bridges he's burned. It is so hard for him to try and make a friend understand. He forces his eyes to open and he feels himself grow weary of this self-imposed isolation.

"I am." Makoto says curtly. "If you have some. I would honestly keep them. _You_ know I will."

Rin keeps silent because he knows Makoto and knows that he can indeed back up what he’s just said. 

He’s taken up Rin’s challenge.

 

 

The silence stretches on, the world goes on turning and the rain keeps falling. It irritates Rin in away that he feels these elements bearing down on him like tenacious, enduring art. Very much like Makoto - who is just sitting there all patient and silent like the forest. Growing older in another country - Rin’s learned that the key to becoming a king is in the apathy of the people around him - all he has to do is return the favor. Rin hates having to unlearn it just because Makoto is proving this theory wrong just by sitting there, he's breaking Rin's defenses and he is stubborn and he just _won’t_ budge.

_"I’ll keep your secrets, Rin. Whatever’s hurting you, whatever’s making you this angry. Share them with me. I'll never tell a soul. You know I won't. You know..."_

"Stop!" A man in control makes not a perfect man. Rin is livid, tired.

Underneath Rin's obvious expressions, underneath the power of his talent is the kind of discourse that most people can call comedic with a history to back it up. Rin needs to always, always hide them under lock and key or else he'll feel vulnerable and ruined. Makoto will no longer see him as a powerful swimmer that’s going Olympic, but a boy living in a pipe dream. A boy who didn't quite make it _out there_ where it _mattered_. 

Rin cannot humble himself to admit that not all went well in Sydney.

Makoto respects the design of Rin’s defenses so instead of tearing down the walls, instead of changing this and that, he chooses to sit quietly and yield to Rin’s request for him to _stop_. But he does not censor himself and moves to quietly, lazily drape an arm over Rin’s shoulders. 

Makoto expects resistance but encounters none. This is progress.

He keeps his eyes to the sky watching as the nimbus clouds take their time, bullying the stars a bit longer. The rain pours harder, Rin shifts and Makoto moves with him and squeezing the ball of Rin's shoulder as if saying: _Sorry. Not going anywhere._ Makoto's mere presence is enough to tell Rin that they have time. That Rin need not worry about what image of his that he might ruin if he chooses to speak up.

 

Thunder rolls. Rin inhales. Rain pours harder. The minutes go by until -

_"You know…Sydney’s not at all a shitty place…I was amazed when I first arrived five years ago…"_

Ah. There you go.

Makoto does not make a sound, he does not hold Rin closer, he lets him speak. Because it’s finally _here_. And he knows this is the first of many stories that Rin has to tell. A prelude to the secrets of what really happened to this would-be-king. Rin will now talk about his roadblocks and Makoto will listen and won't think any less of Rin for it.

The wind blows insistent against the walls of the shed they are sitting in but Makoto is a mountain, immovable and constant that shields Rin from the storm - allowing him the security to speak honestly for the first time in god knows how long.


End file.
